


thirst aid

by Anonymous



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: ??? to ???, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Bickering, Developing Relationship, Fights, Flirting, Fluff, I don't know how to describe this kink just read the summary, I think I'm hilarious personally, Injury, Kissing, Lingerie, M/M, Making Out, Non-Graphic Violence, Pining, Please read the notes for more specific CW, Porn With Plot, Roommates, Sexual Content, Smut, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29253000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When Minho develops an unexpected routine of patching up his mysterious roommate after fights, he's forced to come to terms with the fact that there may be some less-appropriate feelings hidden beneath his concern.or: Minho likes the sight of Jisung post-brawl a little more than he should and chooses to ignore his spiraling attraction toward his roommate for as long as he can.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 30
Kudos: 381
Collections: SKZ Fuckfest





	thirst aid

**Author's Note:**

> for [SKZ Fuckfest](https://twitter.com/s_k_zfukfest)'s lightning round!
> 
> `Prompt #148:`  
> Character A has a bad habit of getting into fights; character B usually patches them up. Character B, however, has more than a little Thing for seeing A all bruised up and bloody.
> 
> **CW** : non-graphic violence, light descriptions of injury (bruises, scratches, blood), brief mention of homophobia

**i.**

Minho almost lost it the first time.

Standing in the doorway was his roommate for the year, frozen like a deer caught in headlights, seemingly shocked to find him awake at the current hour. It was dark save for the light creeping in from the hallway, but Minho could see well enough the painful-looking red mark above the younger boy's eyebrow.

" _Jisung?_ " He jumped out of bed and rushed over to turn the light on.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Jisung mumbled, ducking his head. Minho ignored him.

"What happened to you? Are you okay?"

"I didn't mean to wake you," his roommate sighed. "Just go back to bed. I'm fine."

"Hell no," Minho snapped. He grabbed Jisung's hands to tug him closer, then nearly screamed. "Wha—There's fucking _blood_ on your hands!"

"Quiet down, would you?" Jisung hushed, eyeing the door. It _was_ two in the morning, but then again, most students were up until daylight. "I _know_ that there's blood on my hands."

Minho gaped at him, completely bewildered by the situation. Sure, he didn't know his roommate _too_ well—it was only a month and a half into the semester, and their schedules never seemed to intertwine—but he'd certainly never expected anything like this to happen.

"Here." He forcefully pushed Jisung until he was sitting at the edge of Minho's own bed, where he was just lying a minute prior, scrolling through his phone without a care in the world. "Don’t move. Let me get my first aid kit."

Jisung snickered. "Who the hell brings a first aid kit to college?"

"I don't know, a _dance_ major?"

There was silence for a few seconds. "...I didn't know you were a dance major."

"Well, I guess we don't know that much about each other," Minho replied with a gentle laugh. "I, for one, didn't know you were a delinquent."

"I'm not a delinquent," Jisung scoffed, but he fell quiet when Minho returned with a disinfectant wipe and began to clean the blood from his knuckles. He hissed quietly at the sting.

"Sorry," Minho whispered, turning to throw the wipe in the trash.

"It's fine." Jisung stared up at his face while he pressed a bandage over the worst-looking part of the younger's knuckles. "You seriously don't need to do all this. It'll heal in, like, two days."

Minho ignored him but finally met his eyes. "Who'd you kill?"

"Nobody!"

Minho squinted.

"It's not what you think. He was a complete asshole. And he's not dead; he just has a bloody nose."

"Should I be scared?" Minho asked, but the small smile on his lips likely gave away that, for whatever reason, he didn't fear Jisung in the slightest.

"Hmm, no," Jisung said, a thoughtful look on his face. "I wouldn't fuck up your pretty face, even if you deserved it."

Minho flushed at the compliment, though it was one he'd heard many times before.

"Besides," Jisung continued, "you're a goody-goody anyway."

"Wha—?" Minho spluttered. "I am _not_."

Jisung quirked an eyebrow.

"You didn’t even know what major I am!" the older boy argued.

"I can't tell someone's major by looking at them." Jisung's eyes trailed down his body then back up again. Minho suddenly felt completely exposed in his joggers and oversized hoodie. "But it only takes one glance at you to know that you're a good person."

"Oh," Minho whispered, taken aback by the response. "Well."

Silence fell between them, forcing Minho to become painfully aware of the fact that his mysterious (and, unrelated, but hot) roommate was still sitting on his bed. His cheeks started to burn.

"Are you done playing nurse?" Jisung asked, breaking the tension. Minho glowered at him.

"I'm not _playing nurse_. And _no_ , I'm not done. Is your head okay?" He cautiously reached out and brushed his fingers across the mark.

"It'll be gone in the morning," Jisung mumbled, pushing himself off Minho's bed and gently moving the elder out of the way so he could approach his dresser and change into pajamas. Minho cleared his throat and averted his gaze as the younger boy discarded his shirt.

"Are you sure?" He wasn't sure why he was being so pushy; the mark didn't even look all that bad.

To be honest, he hadn't spent too much time hanging around his roommate—really, this was probably the longest conversation they'd had since move-in day. And for some reason, he didn't want the moment to end.

Inevitably, it did. "Yeah, I'm sure. Get your beauty sleep, dancer boy."

Minho rolled his eyes at the nickname but complied, tucking himself back into his warm sheets and blinking sleepily at Jisung while the younger slipped into his own bed.

"Mm, don't kill me in my sleep."

He drifted off to the sound of Jisung's quiet laugh.

**ii.**

" _Again_ , Han Jisung?"

Red shaded in Jisung's cheeks, matching the streaks of blood on his knuckles. His face wasn't in much better condition, an unhappy looking gash sat beneath his eye and his lower lip was swollen.

"It's nothing."

" _Nothing?"_ Minho stood from his bed with a huff and grabbed Jisung's hands—then quickly loosened his grip when his roommate let out a whimper. "Sorry, sorry. Come here, sit."

Jisung sighed weakly in defeat and allowed Minho to sit him at the edge of his twin-sized mattress just as he had the week before. The younger flopped to his back while Minho fumbled around in his desk drawer for the first aid kit.

"So what'd you do this time?"

"Nothing," Jisung sighed, rubbing his injured forehead with the palm of his less-dirtied hand. Contradicting his response, he continued: "Some asswipe was threatening Felix. Calling him slurs and everything."

Minho made an upset noise in his throat. "Lee Felix? That cute little gamer boy? He's in my dance program."

"Yeah, him. I think he's dating that wannabe rapper you have a crush on."

"I don't have a crush on Changbin," Minho said, whipping around to meet Jisung's eyes with a scowl.

"Sure you don't."

"I _don't_."

"Do too. I always see you clinging to him in the dining hall."

"I don't have a crush on him, Jisung," Minho snapped defensively, eyebrows drawn together as he approached the bed with a package of disinfectant wipes and fresh bandages. "Just drop it, will you?"

It was true. He _didn't_ have a crush on Changbin, but he had no clue why the accusation bothered him as much as it did.

Jisung watched him carefully. His features turned apologetic. "Shit, okay. I'm sorry."

"Whatever." Minho took one of the younger's hands in his and examined the harmed knuckles. Jisung sighed, hesitantly grabbing his free hand and squeezing it to grab his attention.

"I'm sorry. I was just teasing," he murmured once Minho reluctantly met his eyes, then stroked his thumb over the top of the older boy’s hand.

"It's fine," Minho whispered back, breaking eye contact to focus on wiping the blood from one of the injured knuckles.

If Jisung noticed the flush crawling up his neck, he didn't say anything. And he didn't let go of Minho's hand, either.

**iii.**

Two days later, Minho sat up in bed, unable to sleep. He checked his phone, stomach swirling nervously when he saw it was four in the morning.

His roommate was nowhere to be seen.

Though he'd deducted from some interrogating after the last incident that Jisung didn't get into fights on a regular schedule—he simply happened to intervene whenever he came across a deserving asshole—Minho couldn't help but worry. Apparently, the guy his roommate had punched several times the other day had a whole group of asshole friends who now hated Jisung for sticking up for Felix.

What if they all ganged up on him at once? What if he was in serious danger this time?

Minho chewed on his lower lip, and after a few minutes of contemplation, dialed his roommate's number. They hadn't texted nor or called before other than the occasional _Hey, I'm a dumbass and locked myself out of the building_ text, but Minho knew he wouldn't be able to sleep without knowing where the fuck his roommate was in the middle of the night.

As soon as he pressed _Call_ , a buzzing noise filled the room, and to Minho's horror, there it was. 

Jisung's phone, sitting on his nightstand.

"What the fuck?" Minho cried aloud, ending the call. "Who the hell leaves their phone in their dorm?" He lied back down with a disheartened sigh, but no matter how hard he tried, the waves of distress in his stomach were too powerful to let him fall unconscious.

At least half an hour passed before the door opened.

"Where the fuck were you?" Minho snapped before Jisung could even close the door behind him. He angrily pushed himself off his bed and flipped the light-switch—a routine that was already starting to become instinct for him.

Jisung blinked in surprise. "Why are you up?"

Minho gasped. "What the hell happened to your face?" He'd seen Jisung in two states of roughed up, but today, there was a bruise stretching across several inches of his face, right along his cheekbone. "And why the _fuck_ would you leave your phone here? Are you out of your mind?"

He shoved past Jisung to where his desk was, grabbing his first aid kit once again with shaking hands.

Jisung stood idly by the door. "Did you... try to contact me?"

"No _shit_ I did," Minho growled, nudging him toward his bed. The younger boy compliantly sat down on his mattress, eyes large as Minho continued to chastise him. "I thought something had happened to you. And of course, something _did_."

"Wait—" Jisung bit back a hiss when the older boy’s fingers trailed along the bruise on his face to examine it. "Were you—Were you up because of _me?_ "

"Never mind why I was up," Minho tried to snap back, but the anger in his voice had already fizzled out considerably, and the mere feeling of Jisung's warm skin beneath his fingertips had him calming down—despite the bruised state of it.

Jisung grabbed both of his hands. "I'm sorry for worrying you. I'm completely fine. It was just some brainless dick who's been trying to get me to write his essays for him all semester. _Annoying piece of shit_."

"He wants _you_ to write his essays?" Minho repeated, eyebrows furrowed. He tried to ignore the strange feeling that shot through him when Jisung squeezed his hands a little tighter.

"Yeah, why? Did you think I was stupid or something?" the younger grumbled, eyes narrowed.

Minho giggled, shyly glancing down at where their hands were linked, then back up to Jisung's face.

 _No_ , he didn't think Jisung was stupid at all. He was funny, strangely sweet, and clearly intelligent, all contrasting the way he appeared right now with a bruised face and knuckles dotted with scrapes and bruises.

Truth be told, Minho had wanted to get close to his roommate since the first week of classes. His current friend circle was rather large, so he didn't necessarily have an issue finding people to spend time with, but something about Jisung's aura both intrigued and intimidated him.

Now, standing under his gaze, hands enclosed in his, eyes stuck on the bruise plaguing his handsome face, Minho felt that intimidation rushing through his veins at full force.

"Hey, you good?" Jisung pulled one of his hands free to gently touch the side of Minho's face. Minho jumped, then immediately blushed upon realizing he'd spaced out while staring.

"Sorry," he whispered. "Let me go get ice."

"No, wait." Jisung's hands reached out to grab him by the waist, keeping him in place. Minho's blush only grew darker. "You really don't have to. I'll be okay, plus aren't you tired?"

"I'm not tired. Just stay here." Minho pulled out of his grip and headed to the door to throw on a pair of slippers and grab his empty water bottle. "I need fresh air, anyway."

He wasn't lying, at least not about that last part. The second the door clicked shut, he sucked in a deep breath to calm himself.

There was something wrong with him. He and Jisung had hardly talked until about a week ago, and now he wasn't able to sleep until he'd addressed the younger's wounds, regardless of how major or minor they were. Why?

Why was Jisung, cuts and bruises and all, building a home at the front of his brain?

It was only a few minutes before he returned to their room, and as ordered, Jisung was still on his bed—though now he was lounged back, head against Minho's pillow.

The sight provoked a strange feeling in Minho's stomach.

"I'm back," he announced, as if Jisung hadn't watched him enter. "Where do we keep the plastic baggies?"

"In the basket on top of the fridge."

Minho quietly grabbed one and filled it with the ice, carefully sealing it shut before he approached Jisung again.

"Scoot over," he commanded.

"But I'm _tired_ ," Jisung teased, though he made room anyway.

"It's _my_ bed," Minho argued, trying not to let his heart beat too fast when he lied next to the younger and hesitantly pressed the bag of ice to his cheek. He tried his best to distract himself from acknowledging the fact that his both infuriating and attractive—infuriatingly attractive, attractively infuriating—roommate was lying in his bed right now, inches away from him. "Does it hurt?"

"The ice feels good," Jisung mumbled sleepily. "Can you turn off the lights, though? I would, but..." He yawned, proving his point.

Minho huffed. "Sure." He removed the bag of ice from Jisung's face for the moment and left the bed to flick the lights off again, turning on his bedside lamp instead. Jisung was practically unconscious by the time he was lying down again. Minho swallowed hard. What the hell was going on? Was he seriously going to fall asleep in _Minho's bed?_

"Is this okay?" he whispered. His hand was cold from holding the ice, but he kept it firmly pressed to Jisung's cheek. "Is it feeling any better?"

"Uh huh," Jisung hummed back, voice barely audible, eyes shut. Minho indulgently took the moment to admire his features up close. There was a tiny cut to the side of one of his eyebrows, and the older boy observed it with fascination, reaching out with his free hand to trace it with his pointer finger. "Hey." He recoiled at the sound of Jisung's voice, thinking he'd overstepped. "Thank you for taking care of me."

His shoulders instantly relaxed. "It's nothing," he replied, voice weak, face flushed.

Really—what was _wrong_ with him? Could he not take care of his injured roommate without getting all flustered?

"And..." Jisung moved around on the bed a little, sounding as though he were a mere second away from sleep. "Sorry I thought you were a bitch for the first month of the semester."

Minho's eyes narrowed. " _What?_ "

Jisung didn't reply, only let out an incoherent noise. His head rolled forward slightly, falling still against Minho's shoulder as he entered sleep.

Minho's body went rigid. He slowly retracted the bag of ice from Jisung's face and put it on his bedside table, then pulled up his sheets as best as he could without pushing Jisung's face off his shoulder.

Oddly enough, he liked the feeling.

**iv.**

Minho ran a hand down his tired face, stumbling along the pathway leading from the academic part of campus to the dorm buildings. Thankfully, he had just finished his afternoon class, so he was free to pass out in the dorm for the rest of the day—except, _no_ , he _wasn't_ , because unfortunately he had a shit-ton of homework to get out of the way so he could devote the next few days to dance practice.

He hadn't been able to check the time, with Jisung passed out on his shoulder and all, but he estimated that he had fallen asleep sometime around five in the morning. Even after the younger had, he'd stayed up, lost in thought, in wonder of how much their relationship as roommates had changed in such a short amount of time.

And also how his... _level of intrigue_ toward Jisung was rapidly changing, as well.

"Hey!"

Speak of the devil.

Minho's head snapped up immediately, and sure enough, Jisung was approaching from feet away from him.

"Oh, hi," he murmured, blushing despite the fact that there was no possible way for Jisung to know that he'd just been thinking about him. "I never see you around here."

"Well, I always see _you_ ," Jisung said, walking beside Minho now. "But you're usually surrounded by people."

Minho's steps faltered for a moment. Was Jisung _jealous_ , or something?

"You jealous, Han Jisung?" he teasingly voiced his thoughts, giving the younger as suggestive of a smile as he could muster on two hours of sleep.

Jisung grinned, elbowing him gently. "Hmm, no. It would just be nice to see you somewhere other than in the dorm, wiping up my blood."

Minho broke their gaze, a flush creeping up his neck.

"Anyway," Jisung continued. "Do you wanna get coffee?"

Minho froze in his tracks, heart skipping a beat. "What?"

Was Jisung... asking him on a _date?_

"You're clearly exhausted," Jisung said, "and I feel like that's my fault. Come on, I'll get you coffee."

Minho let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. So Jisung _wasn't_ trying to ask him on a date. Obviously. Which was perfectly fine. It wasn't like Minho would've said yes if he _had_ , or anything.

Maybe.

"Sure," he murmured, letting Jisung tug on his arm so they were headed to the nearest coffee shop on campus. There was a lengthy line once they arrived, so the younger boy instructed him to find a table to sit at while he got their orders.

"Psst, Minho," someone called from beside Minho once he'd sat down to wait. He turned to the source of the voice, relatively used to bumping into people he knew wherever he went.

"Oh, hey," he said to the guy seated at the next table. He had no clue what his name was, or where he knew him from, but he recognized him well enough. "What's up?"

"Are you actually here with _Han Jisung?_ " The guy's eyes were large with shock.

Minho stared back blankly. "Yes?" he said, baffled by the question and the tone of his voice. "He's my roommate."

" _Ah_ ," the guy replied with a nod. "Gotcha. Makes sense." He got up from his table, empty coffee cup in his hand. "Well, I'll see you in class!"

"See you," Minho murmured back, though his eyes were narrowed.

_What the hell was that about?_

Shortly, Jisung was headed toward him with two iced coffees in hand. Minho watched, wary, as the eyes of nearly every student in their area glued themselves to the two.

"Here you are, Nurse Lee," Jisung said, handing him his cup, "as promised." He plopped down next to Minho, sipping at his drink, seemingly unbothered by the way every damn person in the shop seemed to be staring them down.

Minho locked eyes with a guy in line who was downright _glaring_ at him and jumped, instantly scooting closer to Jisung.

"What's wrong?" Jisung asked, placing down his drink.

"What do you mean _what's wrong?_ " Minho hissed under his breath. "Why is everyone glaring at us like that?"

"Oh." Jisung bit his lip, an apologetic smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Sorry, no one likes me."

Minho frowned, scooting even closer at his words. "Well _I_ do."

Jisung giggled, throwing an arm over Minho's shoulders and making him jump in his seat. "You're cute."

Minho felt his body erupt in flames, and he had no idea why—or at least that's what he told himself.

Before he could think of a way to respond, though, Jisung was murmuring an _uh oh_ and letting his arm drop back down. Minho turned to face him, alarmed. "What is it?"

"Brave of you to show your ugly face in here," spoke a voice, and then there was a guy Minho recognized _immediately_ looming over their table. He didn't personally know who he was, only that he was one of the guys on campus who was always stalking around with his group of friends, starting fights and causing trouble.

His blood ran cold. There was no doubt in his mind that this was one of the guys Jisung had gotten into a fight with before.

"Fuck do you want?" Jisung groaned, slouching back against the cushioned bench they were seated on. Minho's eyes widened in surprise. How could he appear so _casual_ right now?

"I want your fucking _head on a plate_ ," the guy growled back. "You know, you're a fucking pussy for running away and hiding in your little dorm last night."

"It was four in the morning. Give me a fucking break," Jisung replied, then shot Minho a sorry look before turning back to the guy and glaring. "Can you not do this right now? I'm on a date."

Minho felt his soul ascend.

Date. _Date?_

His skin started to buzz.

"Want me to fight you both?" the guy threatened. Jisung's arm immediately shot out and wrapped around Minho's waist.

"Fuck _off_ ," he spat. Minho could only stare in shock for a second, completely thrown off guard by the venom in Jisung's voice and the protective arm around him.

He would've been just about ready to melt into the bench, if it weren't for the fear that kept him rooted and sitting upright.

"Get away from him," the older boy finally spoke, voice choked. The guy eyed him up and down menacingly.

"Who the hell even are you?"

"Don't talk to him," Jisung snapped, and then he was standing from the table and bending down to whisper in Minho's ear. "Go back to the dorm. I'll take care of this."

" _No._ " Minho grabbed his arm, but Jisung easily broke free from his gentle grip.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. Go back." He gave Minho a soothing pat on the head before turning and dashing out the door after the guy who'd just threatened them.

Minho huffed a sigh, head falling into his hands. He didn't care that everyone was staring at him after the scene, far too worried about whatever the hell Jisung was getting himself into _now_. He stood about a minute late, avoiding everyone's gazes as he stalked out of the shop and headed back to the dorms like he was asked to.

As soon as he got back, he rushed to get out his first aid kit, anticipation running through his veins. He didn't know how long it'd be until Jisung returned, but he couldn't focus his mind on anything other than the younger sitting on his bed, smiling up at him in his mysterious, unreadable way while Minho wiped the blood from his wounds, iced his bruises, patched him up—

Minho was almost... _excited_ , in a way.

Why the hell was he excited?

However, as minutes turned into an hour, and then an hour and a half, whatever shameful excitement Minho had felt began to trickle from his body, replaced with a fearing nausea.

Shit. Why had he let Jisung chase after that asshole? He was arguably one of the most violent people on campus, while Jisung wouldn't hurt a fly if he didn't have to.

Or at least that was the sense _Minho_ had. He really didn't know his roommate all that well, but somehow, he felt like the late nights tending to his wounds had unlocked so much already.

He really, really wanted to unlock more.

It was kind of sick to hope that Jisung would keep getting roughed up; it wasn't like Minho actually wanted him in pain. But he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if the younger stopped getting into fights, if their medical encounters came to an end.

He didn't want to go back to being Jisung's popular _bitch_ roommate, didn't want to lose the brief moments where he had the younger's undivided attention. Didn't want to forget what Jisung looked like glowing from adrenaline, unfairly attractive despite the bruises and scratches— _fuck_ , maybe even _more_ attractive in spite of them.

... _Definitely_ more attractive. Heat rushed to Minho's cheeks now that he had a moment to actually sit and visualize it.

Was he fucked up for that?

He was so caught up recalling the few nights they'd spent like that, suddenly overthinking every look, every _touch_ Jisung had offered him, he nearly forgot that his roommate was still gone, still fighting, still in danger.

"Fuck," he whined, impulsively grabbing his phone to call the younger, praying that he actually had it this time.

Why the fuck was he gone for so long? Surely, a fistfight didn't last for _this_ long. Were they in a goddamn boxing ring? Probably not.

He held his breath once he hit _Call_ , then choked hard when it immediately went to Jisung's voicemail.

"Wha—?" He pulled his device from his ear and stared down at it incredulously, as if it had glitched or something. Hoping that it had glitched, he tried again.

Voicemail.

No way was Jisung's phone dead at a time like this, or turned off, or whatever. What kind of luck?

Minho couldn't stop himself from freaking out now, rolling around on his bed and frustration, letting out an angry noise into the sheets.

Why? Why had he let Jisung go? The bruise on his face was already bad enough; if Jisung got injured any worse he could be in _serious_ peril—

Suddenly the door clicked open, and Jisung's voice filled the room.

" _Honey, I'm home_ ," the younger sang, a paper bag in his bloody hand and a smile on his face that quickly faded when Minho stormed toward him, rage in his features.

"What the fuck took you so long?" he yelled, voice almost _choked_ sounding. He threw weak punches at Jisung's chest. " _Fuck_ _you_ for leaving me. I was so fucking _scared_. And why the fuck is your phone off?"

Jisung gave him a bewildered look, backing away to put the paper bag down on his bed and slip his backpack off.

"Hey, it's okay," he murmured as he approached Minho again. "I'm fine, okay?"

Minho narrowed his eyes, ready to continue lecturing his roommate, but before he could, he was distracted by two arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him in for a hug, Jisung's chin settling on his shoulder.

His body tensed, heat rushing through him in untamable waves.

"Wha—" he choked out. His waist burned at Jisung's touch.

"I'm sorry," Jisung said softly. "But I'm alright, okay? You don't need to worry about me."

Minho swallowed hard, whatever aggressive words he'd planned to unleash forgotten completely. He hesitantly wrapped his own arms around Jisung's neck to return the hug.

Oh, God. Oh, fuck.

His heart was doing funny things for some reason, and he could only pray that Jisung couldn't feel it where their chests pressed up together.

He stayed in Jisung's hold for a moment, enveloped in warmth despite the fact that it was beginning to grow chilly out in the autumn air.

To his disappointment—or relief, maybe—the younger boy finally pulled away and met his eyes.

"Okay?" He squeezed at Minho's waist before letting it go.

"Not okay," Minho muttered back weakly. "Your hands are hurt. And you didn't answer my question. Why the fuck were you out for so long?"

"Sorry," Jisung said, sounding sheepish. He retreated to his bed and grabbed the paper bag. "I got us muffins."

"Huh?"

Jisung laughed almost _shyly_ , handing it to Minho to open, and sure enough, there were two muffins inside, what appeared to be chocolate chip.

"You know, cause, um." Jisung squeezed his arm in an empathetic manner. "I felt bad our date got crashed by that asshole, and all."

There it was again. _Date_.

Minho spluttered uncontrollably, surely turning an unsettling shade of red. "Oh."

"Wait, do you even like muffins?" Jisung rushed, features twisting into concern after witnessing Minho's reaction. "I probably should've asked, but my phone is dead. They're chocolate chip, but if you don't like them—"

"No, no," Minho cut him off. "I love them. I just—Were you serious about the... _date_ thing? Weren't you just, uh, trying to get rid of that dude?"

Jisung raised his eyebrows, then gave him a lazy grin. "Oh, was I?"

If Minho hadn't already been noticeably red, he _definitely_ was now.

"Let me see your hands," Minho blurted, desperate for a distraction before he could pass out at the implication that _he had been on a date with Jisung_. (He also may have been desperate to tend to his wounds and admire him up close, but that wasn't necessary to dwell on.)

"I'm _fine_ ," Jisung whined. He turned away from Minho and went to flop on his own bed for once, scooting back to sit up against the pillows. "Come have the muffins with me. I don't wanna get crumbs on your pretty little bed."

"Shut up." Minho ignored him, placing the bag on his desk and taking out the first aid kit. For some reason, he felt like he'd go insane if he didn't at least touch Jisung's bruised hands.

No, seriously—What was wrong with him?

"Come on," Jisung whined again when Minho approached him. "I feel bad making you play nurse all the time."

"You're not making me. Move the fuck over."

"Damn, you seem kinda riled up today." Jisung grinned at him, eyes sparkling strangely. Minho groaned, praying he didn't look as flustered as he felt.

"Move."

"You can't tell me what to do."

"Fuck— _Fine_ ," Minho snapped, tossing the first aid kit down on the other side of Jisung and climbing right on top of the younger, practically sitting in his lap.

"Oh?" Jisung hummed in surprise. Minho avoided his gaze.

"Shut up. You left me no choice." He reached for his first aid kit and pulled out the wipes.

"I literally said you didn't have to."

"Quiet."

Minho carefully examined his hands, which were in worse condition than they had been any of the previous times. He frowned at the injuries while he cleaned off the fresh blood, but he couldn't stop his mind from wandering in the wrong direction.

Why were Jisung's hands so goddamn attractive?

He wiped at them far longer than he'd needed to, using the disinfectant wipe as an excuse to keep looking at them. His fingers were so long, and his skin was rough, but for some reason Minho _liked_ the roughness, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the bruises and scratches and—

"Why aren't you a nursing major?" Jisung spoke up, pulling him from his wildly inappropriate, rapidly spiraling thoughts. He glowered at the younger, placing the wipe to the side and reaching for the bandages.

"Shut up," he mumbled.

"Hmm, you know what? You'd look good in a nurse dress."

Minho gawked at him, heat rushing to his face, heat rushing _everywhere_. "Fuck _off_ ," he cried, embarrassed, shoving Jisung so he was falling to his back, and—

Oh, fuck, Minho was falling _with_ him.

He gasped at the unexpected fall, barely catching himself with two hands planted on either side of Jisung's head, now straddling his roommate with their faces goddamn inches apart and wide eyes locking.

Was this it? Was Minho finally having his long awaited K-drama moment?

No. No, he needed to get his mind out of the gutter.

"Uh—Um," he stammered, swallowing hard as he tried to remember how to move his limbs so he could stop fucking _straddling_ Jisung, but some reason, his brain had forgotten the instructions completely. "Sorry—"

"Why do you blush so much?" Jisung suddenly asked.

Minho swallowed again. Why? _Why_ did he have to point that out?

"I—I don't know?" he tried, breath catching in his throat when Jisung's hands—his _rough, attractive hands_ —reached up to cup his face, feeling how hot it was. The gesture only made Minho's skin burn that much _more_.

"It's kinda cute," Jisung admitted, and it took everything in Minho not to choke at the words.

Was Jisung _flirting_ with him? He was, right? He had to be. No, really, he _had_ to be, because Minho was about a sliver of self-control away from snapping and kissing the _life_ out of him. Especially when the younger started to stroke at his cheekbones with his calloused thumbs, eyes searching Minho's face in a way that made him feel completely naked. His lips were tugging up into a small smirk, and his touch was sending sparks through Minho’s skin, and he was so fucking _hot_ —

Fuck it.

Minho wasn’t sure which gave out first, exactly—his arms or his will.

He closed the few inches that separated them, mouth crashing against Jisung's before he could find the will to stop it. He instantly gasped into the kiss as if he hadn't been the one to initiate it, heart speeding up almost _dangerously_ when their lips slotted together and began to move messily.

Jisung was so fucking hot, he couldn't even be bothered to freak out over the fact that he had just kissed his roommate completely unprompted, tongue brushing against his easily like the two of them hadn't damn near been _strangers_ for the past month or so.

Except he suddenly _was_ bothered. The feeling of Jisung's deliciously rough hands on his face yanked him back to reality, and he pulled back with a sharp inhale, eyes astronomically wide, rushing to prop himself up again so he was no longer crushing the younger.

"Fuck," he swore, trying not to look at Jisung's shining lips. "Oh, God. Fuck. I'm sorry—"

"Why are you apologizing?" Jisung asked with a frown. "It's fine...? I would've pulled away if I didn't like it."

Oh, God. Fuck.

Jisung had _liked_ it.

"Oh, um," Minho breathed, eyes flickering all around Jisung's face in an attempt to avoid meeting his gaze _and_ his lips. "Really?"

"God, you're so cute," Jisung said with a laugh, grabbing Minho's face and pulling him back down for another kiss that made Minho's heart race at an even more concerning rate than before. The younger pulled away quickly, though, moving his hands down to Minho's waist to gently roll them both to the side so the older boy was no longer awkwardly straddling him. "...But I think I have to go to my night class soon."

" _Night class?_ " Minho mumbled, slowly coming back to his senses after _that_. He nuzzled into Jisung’s hand that was back cupping his face, breathing deeply while his heartbeat began to even out. "I can't believe you even _go_ to class, really."

Jisung raised his eyebrows. "I'm first in my year."

Minho jerked back in surprise. "You're _what?_ "

**v.**

Minho scowled as he roamed back and forth in front of the pharmacy's shelf. With a defeated sigh, he finally pulled out his phone and dialed his roommate's number.

For once, the younger actually _answered_.

"Nurse Lee?"

Minho flushed, both at the name and at the fact that he was hearing Jisung's voice come through his phone and flow straight into his ear for the first time.

"Oh, uh. Hi."

"Hi." Jisung sounded amused. "I'm in the middle of my Geography lecture, but how can I help you?"

" _What?_ " Minho cried, alarmed. "Why would you pick up the phone? Pay attention! I thought you were first in your class."

"I am," the younger one said with a snicker. "I'm, like, two weeks ahead in coursework."

"Seriously?" Minho muttered bitterly. "Well, anyway. Um, so, I've been using my adhesive bandages for you, but they have like nothing at the pharmacy right now—well, there are small ones, but they have cartoon characters on them which is probably embarrassing, and I mean, they're too small anyway..."

"Uh huh," Jisung hummed, and Minho could detect the unbearable, teasing smile in his voice.

"Anyway, my point is, I can get gauze instead, and tape, too, if that's okay with you? Or, if you want—"

" _Minho_."

Minho instantly fell silent, stomach stirring just hearing his name fall from Jisung's lips—the lips he'd _kissed_ only a few days ago, though they hadn't exactly addressed that yet. "...Yeah?"

"Minho, are you seriously out getting bandages for me?"

"..."

"Hello?"

Minho's mouth opened and closed a few times. He hadn't really thought twice about it when he'd walked to the off-campus store, but when it was put like that...

Damn. He seriously had some issues to sort out.

" _Hello?_ "

"Um." Minho cleared his throat. "So gauze is fine?"

"Minho..."

"Cool, okay. Gauze. I'll see you later. Have fun in class." He hurriedly hung up the call before he could hear Jisung speak his name again and tangle his insides even _more_.

Luckily, his roommate didn't openly tease him about the exchange later that night, only gave the plastic bag from the pharmacy that sat on Minho's desk a pointed look and poorly concealed a smile.

"Remind me to take you out for coffee again soon," he murmured, sending Minho a cryptic eyebrow raise as he grabbed his towel and bathrobe to head out to the showers.

**vi.**

Days passed, and Minho and Jisung had hardly seen each other, much less spoken. The older boy had an overwhelming amount of dance rehearsals to suffer through, and the younger was almost always gone on the nights he _was_ at the dorm, attending his late-night classes. After all, their schedules had never really gone hand-in-hand to begin with.

Minho wasn’t sure if he was glum or grateful for the distance between them. Maybe a little bit of both.

It _did_ give him time to calm down after the whole fiasco—after he’d basically shoved his tongue down Jisung’s throat unprovoked. And it spared him the embarrassment of whatever conversation they’d have regarding that kiss, if they acknowledged it at all.

He couldn’t lie; he missed Jisung’s presence a humiliating amount. But nonetheless, it was nice to unwind after the strange events of the past couple weeks and take some time for himself.

Right now, he was _really_ taking time for himself. In a completely non-PG way.

Red lace stretched over his crotch and hugged his ass, making it look less flat than it really was. He’d ordered the lingerie weeks ago, but he hadn’t had the chance to try it on, especially since his brain had been abruptly transformed into a whirlwind of _Jisung_ this, _Jisung_ that.

But _Jisung_ was gone at the moment, leaving Minho to do as he pleased and stand in front of his mirror, taking shamelessly lewd pictures for the hell of it.

He didn’t dress like this often, but he _did_ like prettying himself every once in a while and taking artful photos that he’d probably never even look at again or send to anyone. After all, he hadn’t dated once since he’d started college, and he only slept around every now and then, usually out of boredom and horniness that couldn’t be resolved with a dildo.

After taking a frightening amount of pictures— _listen_ , he was selfie freak (and a little bit of a narcissist)—he sighed and slipped his white bathrobe on, scrolling through the pictures and deleting the uglier ones as he tried to contemplate jerking off just because he had the time, and it could provide better photo opportunities. Jisung wouldn’t be back until God knows when; he was probably in a class at the moment and hopefully not getting himself into trouble somewhere.

...Or maybe he was doing none of the above.

Out of nowhere, the doorknob turned, and before Minho had the chance to do anything to hide the fact that he’d just been taking explicit photos in fucking _lingerie_ , Jisung was standing in the doorway, mouth partially open as if he were about to say something, then _staying_ open as he took in the more than unexpected sight.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” he breathed.

“Um,” Minho said, loud, violently tossing his phone onto his bed and rushing to tie his bathrobe while he tried to figure out how the fuck he was going to make it out of this exchange without passing away.

It was then that he saw the black eye.

Jisung was still eyeing him, frozen in shock, before his lips turned up into a teasing smile. “Whatcha doing—”

“What the fuck happened to your eye?” Minho yelped, cutting him off—half out of concern, half out of desperation to take Jisung’s mind off the fact that he’d just walked in on Minho like this.

“Are you… sending nudes?” Jisung looked amused, _way_ too amused in contrast to Minho, who wanted to fall through the fucking floor.

“ _No!_ ” Minho walked toward the younger and pushed him back to sit on his bed like usual. “I—I was just—I don’t have to explain myself to you!” He swallowed, tying his robe extra tight. “Let me see your bruises.”

“I’m literally fine,” Jisung sighed, as if his face wasn’t the worst Minho had seen it.

...Not that it looked _bad_. It didn’t, _really_ didn’t. He looked like some hot, mysterious, cliché bad boy, which definitely wasn’t Minho’s most shameless fantasy _at all_. Nope.

“You’re not _fine!_ ” Minho cried. (Well, he technically _was_ , but not in that sense.) “Are you crazy?” He approached the bed and cautiously grazed under Jisung’s eye, pulling back when the younger grimaced. “I should get ice.”

“Why do you always insist on doing this?” Jisung asked suddenly, lower lip between his teeth. “You like being my little nurse or something?”

Minho felt himself flush from head to toe.

What the fuck? What the absolute _fuck?_

“ _Stop_ ,” he groaned weakly, eyes widening when Jisung reached for the hem of his own shirt and started to pull it over his head. “What are you doing?”

Minho gasped as soon as the article of clothing was gone. There was a noticeable bruise at his hip, then a few smaller, more faded ones, along with other scratches and whatnot that Minho hadn’t seen before, considering he had never seen Jisung shirtless during any of these… _instances_.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. There was a fresh scratch at the top of his shoulder from God knows what, a few random marks by his collarbone, another fading bruise right above his abs.

Minho probably spent a suspicious amount of time raking his torso, because when he met Jisung’s eyes again, the younger was evidently biting back a grin, eyebrows raised with that goddamn bruise under his eye making him look so ridiculously _attractive_.

“Um,” Minho spoke, swallowing hard. He had to focus, take his mind off the inexcusable feeling in the core of his stomach that was suddenly making the well-fitted lingerie on his body uncomfortable. “Um… So, um. Are you okay? I should… I should get that ice. Let me get—”

Jisung’s hands suddenly shot out and grabbed his waist to keep him in place. “Minho.”

Minho swallowed again, avoiding Jisung’s eyes. Fuck. Did he know—know that Minho had some sort of questionable feelings toward him?

“Wha—What is it?” he choked out, looking down at his bathrobe which had already started to slip open a little, but he couldn’t move, not when one of Jisung’s rough hands was leaving his waist and caressing his face.

 _Don’t get hard. Don’t. He’s not even fucking_ doing _anything_ —

“Why are your cheeks so red?” Jisung asked, turning Minho’s face so he’d meet his eyes, and fuck, he was _smirking,_ gazing at Minho like he was transparent.

“They’re… not,” Minho mumbled stupidly, as if Jisung couldn’t see for himself. Suddenly he was burning, every part of him, _especially_ the parts where the younger’s hands were placed.

“Hmm, yes they are, babe.”

 _Babe_.

Minho’s pathetic dick failed him.

“ _No_ ,” he argued weakly, pulling away from Jisung with reluctance—if he didn’t, he’d overheat to the point of melting (though maybe that wouldn’t be too bad). “I’m gonna—gonna get the first aid kit.”

He stumbled away toward his desk and grabbed the stupid thing, begging his dick to behave itself in the meantime, but it was next to hopeless with Jisung watching him from his bed, eyes wandering down to where the bathrobe was opening again, and—

Fuck.

 _Fuck, fuck,_ _fuck_.

He could see the bulge, couldn’t he?

Minho figured taking the time to re-tie the bathrobe would make things even more awkward, so he chose the route of pretending nothing was happening down there and completely avoided Jisung’s eyes as he made his way back to the bed.

To his relief, the younger's mouth stayed sealed as Minho took out the disinfectant wipes and started to deal with the worst marks on his chest, letting out apologetic hums whenever Jisung whimpered and doing everything he could to lead his mind out of the gutter.

He was almost all the way out, but of course, that’s when Jisung decided to open his mouth.

"You _really_ like patching me up, huh?" he murmured, tone so pointed that the heat in Minho’s face doubled in temperature.

Jisung was _teasing him_.

"Um," he spoke quietly. "I mean, I guess..."

"You guess?" Jisung echoed with a snicker. Minho made the mistake of finally meeting his roommate's eyes once he was done tending to most of the wounds.

It was a _terrible_ mistake, because Jisung's eyes were shockingly _not_ on his. They were on his bulge.

Minho tensed, convinced he was officially flushing from _head to toe_.

Jisung finally met his eyes again, the younger’s _own_ eyes twinkling with amusement. Minho partially wanted to drop through the floor, partially wanted to shove his roommate down onto the bed and sit on his—

"Do you... wanna talk about this?"

"Wha—What's there to talk about?" Minho croaked defensively. "It happens, okay?"

"Well, yeah, but..." Jisung trailed off, doing an absolutely _horrid_ job of suppressing a grin. Minho swore he could feel his heart trying to claw its way from his body, beating too fast to stay in place. He started to shift from foot to foot. What the fuck was he supposed to do? What the _fuck_ was he supposed to do?

Jisung gave him an exasperated sigh. "Come here."

Minho inhaled sharply at the sudden command, but his body was following it before his brain could ponder it further, timidly shuffling forward to diminish the few inches between him and the edge of the mattress where Jisung was perched.

His roommate’s eyes remained locked with his as he reached out with caution and settled his hands on either side of Minho's waist, observing every expression that passed over the older boy’s face, every hitch of his breath.

It was a simple touch, and yet, Minho felt like he was about to collapse to the ground. Hell, _he_ felt like he was the one that had just gotten his ass beat by some infamous campus delinquent.

"Can I help you?" he breathed, hardly able to get the words out. God, what the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he acting like a complete _idiot_ over some scratches and bruises on his slightly—okay, extremely—attractive roommate?

And _why_ was his dick so _hard?_

"Can I kiss you?" Jisung’s question came bluntly, almost _casually_ , though his cheeks were noticeably pinker than they'd been before.

"Wha—" Minho choked out. He'd more or less had his tongue down Jisung's throat a mere handful of nights ago, but the thought of the younger's lips on his right now suddenly had him in flames. "Yes. _Yes_."

Jisung grinned a little, and his eyes sparkled prettily, and then he was tightening his grip on Minho's waist and craning his neck up to connect their lips as the older boy leaned down.

Minho sighed the moment he felt Jisung’s mouth on his. Considering the amount of people he’d kissed in his lifetime, kissing Jisung had no reason to feel so heavenly, no reason to leave his insides buzzing. Without further thought, he wound his arms around Jisung's neck and boldly lifted a knee onto the mattress so he could crawl into the younger's lap, letting out a gasp when Jisung's arms wrapped around him completely now and pulled him flush against his chest.

Despite Minho’s out-of-control nerves, moving his lips against Jisung's was an action that came to him so _easily_ , easier than anything he’d ever done. He took stuttered breaths through his nose as he threaded his fingers into Jisung's hair and shyly began to explore his mouth.

Then Jisung pulled him even _closer_ —close enough for Minho's unwavering boner to brush against the younger's lower stomach.

" _Ah!_ " Minho choked out, surely bright red, but Jisung didn't separate their mouths, only slid his hands down to hold Minho's hips and encouragingly tug the older boy forward again so he could grind against him.

Minho could hardly keep up with their kisses now, head spinning and stomach twisting with pleasure as he cautiously rutted against Jisung, his cock growing impossibly harder in the confines of his lingerie.

He was hardly able to stop the quiet whimpers escaping his mouth and disappearing into Jisung's now. His hands tightened in the younger's hair, probably to a painful extent, and his hips stuttered uncontrollably.

Jisung finally pulled away, leaving Minho stiff and fear-filled at the immediate thought that he was taking things too far.

"I'm—"

"Three questions," Jisung cut him off, thumbs rubbing circles into his thighs.

Minho blinked, off-guard. "Okay..."

"First question," the younger murmured, searching his eyes. "Are you seeing someone, because I don't wanna fuck around if—"

"No," Minho cut him off.

Of course he wasn't. If he were seeing someone, his brain likely wouldn't be plagued with thoughts of his roommate day and night. In that case, he was suddenly glad he had no one to call his own—he admittedly sort of liked the Jisung plague that had been spreading throughout his brain the past few weeks.

Jisung raised a skeptical eyebrow at the answer, eyes drifting down to the lingerie Minho had conducted his photoshoot in just before the younger had arrived earlier.

"What?" Minho cried, embarrassed. "I'm not—I _wasn't_ sending nudes. I just like to take pictures sometimes, okay? I'm in a Photography course this semester, you know."

"Oh, are you?" Jisung choked out a giggle that made Minho's heart flutter. "Must be an interesting curriculum."

"Shut up," Minho hissed. "Is there a problem with my beautiful photography, Han?"

Jisung smiled softly and pulled Minho in for a quick kiss. "No, no. There's not a problem." His hands slid under the bathrobe’s material so they were now touching his bare torso, rubbing up in down soothingly but also in a way that drove Minho fucking _insane_.

Fuck, he wanted Jisung so _badly_.

"Question two. Can I touch you?"

Minho's lips parted.

 _Yes_. Yes, yes, _yes_.

"Yes," he rushed, hardly caring if he sounded too eager. He was straining against the lacy red material with barely any sort of stimulation; if he didn’t have Jisung’s hands on him soon, he’d likely lose his mind.

"Anywhere?" Jisung continued, soft and careful. He was obviously waiting for clarification before making any sort of move, and his caution alone had Minho's heart rolling over in his chest.

Minho swallowed. "Please."

_Please touch me. And maybe fuck my brains out._

"Okay," Jisung whispered with a half-grin, falling to his back without warning and pulling Minho down with him, putting them in a position similar to the one they were in when they'd kissed the first time. Minho yelped quietly as their mouths met again and moved sloppily against each other, then gasped when Jisung's hands slipped under the bathrobe and cupped his ass.

"Wha—What was the third question?" Minho asked, reluctantly separating their lips and planting his hands at either side of Jisung's face, their soft breaths mingling.

Jisung's face lit up deviously.

"Oh, right." He gripped Minho's ass more firmly, making an accidental squeak escape Minho's throat. The younger grinned. "Does seeing me all roughed up _actually_ turn you on that much?"

Minho's eyes grew enormous.

Fuck. Jisung seemed to understand him better than he understood _himself_.

He couldn’t have that.

" _What?_ " Minho tried to feign confusion, but surely his flustered appearance gave him away. "Um, well—I mean—Huh?"

Jisung gave him a cryptic laugh, though his eyes were soft. "Okay, I see."

"You don't see shit," Minho grumbled defensively, but he made no move to stop Jisung from bringing him back down for a deep kiss. He indulged himself in the feeling of Jisung's breath hot against his mouth and tongue sweet against his but soon pulled away, desperate to take whatever the fuck was going on to the next level.

He sat up to straddle Jisung, then moved up to his knees slightly so the younger could shuffle further back onto the mattress, dragging Minho forward with him. The older boy's eyes were glued to his torso again, observing the small scratches and whatnot that he'd already cleaned.

"Oh, I..." he trailed off for a moment, then cleared his throat. Jisung gave him a patient smile. "I should... probably bandage some of these."

The patient smile quickly turned teasing.

"You sure you wanna?"

"Uh—" Minho choked out.

No. No, he didn't.

"You're cute," Jisung continued to tease, fingers ghosting over Minho's crotch and narrowly avoiding his boner.

Minho huffed in an attempt to cover up how much Jisung affected him. "Fine, I'll let you bleed out, then." He dove down and suddenly attached his lips to a bare patch of skin on the younger's neck to suck a mark against it. Jisung let out a quiet noise, hands moving up so he could grip Minho's hair as the older boy began to kiss down his neck, lips lingering at the injured spots.

"You're so hot," Jisung breathed. Minho was swiftly shifting back so he could access Jisung's torso now, lips and tongue trailing down, not missing a single cut or bruise, leaving fresh marks in any clean spots.

"I know," Minho teased, stopping once he reached the base of Jisung's stomach. "Can I suck you off?"

" _Yes_ ," Jisung replied without question.

Minho smiled, then flushed. His voice quieted in nervousness. "...and then sit on your dick?"

" _Fuck_ , yes," Jisung choked out, hips stuttering when Minho palmed over the bulge forming in his sweatpants. Minho offered him a cute smile, probably too cute for someone who was about to have a dick in his mouth. He fixed his eyes on Jisung's crotch, fingers unhesitatingly slipping under the younger's waistband and pulling the material down to his mid-thighs, leaving him in his boxers.

Minho blinked.

Jisung had a huge dick.

" _God_ ," he whispered, ignoring the cocky smile tugging at Jisung's lips and dipping down to press kisses down the length of his bulge. Jisung let out a breathy whine and petted Minho's hair back, though the older boy didn't spend too much time teasing, soon reaching for the waistband of his boxers, as well.

He wanted Jisung's dick in his mouth an embarrassing amount.

"You're so cute," the younger boy whispered as Minho struggled to pull the underwear down, lifting his hips to aid him. "Wish we'd done this sooner."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Minho mumbled, gulping and subconsciously wetting his lips at the sight of Jisung's cock exposed, hard against his stomach and leaking just slightly. His pupils dilated with arousal. "Fuck."

"Cute."

Minho shot Jisung a look, face growing hotter and hotter every time the word—or _any_ word, really—came from the younger's mouth. He wasted no time in wrapping his small fingers around Jisung's length and slowly trailing his tongue up to the tip.

" _Shit_ ," Jisung breathed, gasping quietly when Minho licked at the head, lips suckling teasingly while he watched Jisung with dark eyes.

"Am I cute now?" he teased, letting his saliva dribble down onto Jisung's cock so he could stroke it with ease.

"Still cute," Jisung confirmed with a choked laugh, hips squirming against the bed. He was obviously remaining patient for Minho; after all, the situation was particularly sudden, unexpected and new for both of them. "Would be even cuter swallowing me though."

...So much for patience.

Minho glowered and gave him an annoyed huff, but there was really no point in pretending he didn't want Jisung down his throat, so he shifted his attention back to the younger's cock and wrapped his lips around it again.

"Shit, Minho," Jisung moaned when he sunk down nearly all the way. He laced his fingers through Minho's hair. "Is it okay if I—?"

Minho hummed around him as a response, inhaling sharply when Jisung's thrusted up, likely unintentional and a result of the vibrations Minho’s noise made around his cock. The elder only took the accidental movement as encouragement, though, desperate to work Jisung up even more. His head started to bob steadily, tongue dragging along the younger's cock and eyes fluttering shut in bliss. The feeling of Jisung's fingers tightening in his hair, almost guiding him, was unfairly arousing, as was the way his hips were subtly grinding up into his mouth.

God, Minho had always had a distinct likeness for sucking dick, but sucking Jisung off somehow had him leaking into the red material of his lingerie _far_ more than he would've had he been doing this with any other person.

"Feels so good, baby," Jisung gritted out, whining under his breath when Minho moaned around him. "You look so pretty."

Minho almost choked—both because of Jisung’s big cock _and_ because of his stupid words. Spurred on by the praise, he sucked faster, harder, tongue tracing Jisung's cock with expertise, lips sucking at the head every time he pulled off for air.

Jisung was louder than he would've expected him to be, in all his quietness and mysteriousness, but the noises only made Minho want to deep throat him that much more, made him want to hear what Jisung sounded like coming down his throat.

...However, he couldn't let that happen right now. No, he needed Jisung inside him tonight.

He indulged both Jisung and himself for another minute or two, willingly stilling his head so the younger could guide him and shamelessly grinding his hips against the mattress. He moaned around the younger's cock, whining when his cock hit the back of his throat in a sporadic thrust.

Deciding he'd had enough fun, he slowly pulled off and licked the pre-cum and spit from his lips, then inhaled sharply when he was properly able to take in Jisung's appearance again.

Somehow, he had gotten even _more_ attractive since Minho's lips had made contact with his cock. His cheeks and neck were flushed, lips red and glistening from being bitten, a light coating of sweat making his skin shine and the hickeys Minho had made blooming alongside the various scratches and marks that had already been there.

Minho _really_ didn't know how he hadn't jumped this boy's bones already.

"Fuck me," he whispered under his breath.

Jisung laughed quietly. "All right, get over here, then."

Minho blushed, unexpecting of the blunt response. He shuffled forward so he was straddling Jisung's torso and allowed the younger to push his bathrobe until it gave way and fell from his body.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Jisung murmured, making Minho's heart do somersaults. "Do you have lube?"

"Of course I have lube," Minho scoffed. "What do you take me for?"

He reluctantly moved off of Jisung and stood to his feet to rush to his dresser and pull out his concealed bottle of lube. "Do you have condoms?" he then asked, panicked as he whipped around to face his roommate. Fuck, he'd shamelessly run across the street to the convenience store if he had to, _just_ to ensure that he'd get to sit on Jisung’s dick tonight.

"I think so," Jisung hummed, throwing Minho a wink as he shimmied out of his pants and boxers completely and headed over to his nightstand.

Minho could only stop and stare; Jisung was _so fucking hot_.

He sighed in relief when the younger pulled out an unopened condom packet and lazily tossed it onto Minho's bed, crawling back on top of it and pulling Minho to fall onto his chest again once he arrived back at the bed, as well.

Minho instantly melted against him, hooked on the feeling of Jisung's lips and the way they seemed to fit his just perfectly. He then yelped, pupils blown wide when the younger suddenly rolled and flipped them so Minho was pinned beneath him.

" _Oh_ ," he breathed out when Jisung's lips attached to his neck, sucking a mark into the skin while his hands were busied caressing over the material of Minho's lingerie.

"This looks so fucking good on you," the younger mumbled against him. "I don't even wanna take it off."

Minho laughed quietly, cheeks hot. "Too bad. I can send you my award-winning photographs, if you'll really miss it that much."

"Deal." Jisung peppered soft kisses to his skin rather than bites, no longer hesitating to pull at the waistband and carefully tug down the article to release Minho's painfully hard, pathetically leaking cock. "Oh, look at you."

"Shut—Shut up," Minho mumbled, embarrassed, squirming around against the sheets. "Come on. We don't have all night."

Jisung scoffed. "You say that like you don't stay up all night waiting for me with your little first aid kit, babe."

"Shut _up_ ," Minho whined again, pouting for a moment but instantly gasping when Jisung wrapped his fingers around his cock and thumbed at the wetness seeping from the tip. "Fuck, _fuck_."

"Adorable," Jisung breathed, stroking him quickly and grinning when the older boy's hips bucked up and mouth fell open with a whimper.

"I swear if you make me come before I'm sitting on your dick, I'll beat you up myself.”

"You that sensitive?"

" _Shut up_."

Minho bit back the noises threatening to escape his lips as Jisung continued to work him up, strokes quickening and grip tightening. When the younger finally removed his hand, he was caught between groaning in protest and sighing in relief—though he did neither, breath caught in his throat at the sight of Jisung picking up the bottle of lube and flipping open the cap.

His roommate met his eyes and smiled gently as he poured the substance over his fingers. It dribbled all over Minho's sheets, but the older boy couldn't be fucked to care, not when Jisung's dick was that big.

"Are you completely sure about this, Minho?" he asked softly, petting one of Minho's thighs with his free hand. "I don't want to let you do something you regret and then have you pretend I don't exist for another month."

"Wha— _Excuse_ me?" Minho sat up on his elbows in surprise, then yelped when Jisung's hand moved from his thigh to his chest to push him back down to the mattress.

"You heard me," Jisung deadpanned.

"Are you fucking serious right now? I've literally been thirsting over you since _move-in day_ ," Minho hissed, cheeks burning the moment the confession slipped off his tongue.

It wasn't a lie, but he'd hardly admitted that much to _himself_ until now, never mind _Jisung_.

"Oh, have you?" Jisung gave him a gleeful laugh, and Minho would've sat up and punched him if he had the strength, but Jisung was now parting his thighs with his clean hand and moving to kneel between them, and his brain was rapidly falling back into the gutter.

"I—I don't know why I said that," Minho muttered, half-embarrassed, half-delighted as Jisung's coated hand made its way between his spread legs. The younger's pointer and middle finger stroked over his hole experimentally, gaze locked on Minho's face.

"If it counts for anything, I gladly would’ve bent you over your moving boxes," he said with a wink.

" _Ah_ ," Minho cried, thighs tensing as Jisung's first finger began to slide inside him. Fuck, it had been _far_ too long since he'd been filled with anything other than a dildo. "Why didn't you?"

Jisung shrugged. "I didn't think you'd wanna." He pushed his finger in the rest of the way and drew it out slightly to begin thrusting it shallowly, face lighting up after Minho moaned quietly. "Well, until you started drooling every time you saw me with my ass beat."

"I didn't— _fuck_ —I didn't _drool_ ," Minho grumbled, thighs opening more. "Come _on_ , another finger. I'm not the goody-goody you think I am, you know."

Jisung hummed amusedly but compliantly slid in another finger, causing Minho to gasp at the stretch.

"You're not a good boy, Minho?"

Minho's face flamed, cock leaking more pre-cum that he prayed Jisung wouldn't notice. "Wh—Shut up." He squeezed his eyes shut to avoid his roommate's teasing gaze.

"I disagree," the younger went on, and Minho could just _hear_ the smirk in his voice as his fingers angled up just enough to make Minho's back arch in pleasure. "I think you're a _very_ good boy."

Minho cried out against his will, one hand flying up to cover his face, the other gripping the sheets. "Fuck you," he muttered under his breath once he was composed again, but his voice was soft and whiny rather than venomous.

"Your thighs are so pretty," Jisung murmured all of a sudden, his free hand stroking up one of Minho's thighs and squeezing. " _You're_ so pretty."

" _Jisung_ ," Minho mumbled, overwhelmed by the praises. His eyes flew open when he heard Jisung shift around, only to watch him shuffle back so he was lying partially between Minho's legs instead of sitting up. Minho’s eyes bulged. For a second, he thought Jisung was about to suck him off—which, _fuck_ , he wouldn't last at all if that happened—but he soon threw his head back with a soft gasp of surprise when the younger’s lips attached to his inner thigh.

Jisung wanted him to pass out; he was sure of it.

"God, _fuck_ ," he gritted out, legs tensing. Jisung's fingers relentlessly pumped into him while he nipped and kissed along his thigh, sending his insides haywire. "Three. You can do three."

"What do you say?" Jisung murmured, breath hitting his skin as he pulled back from a mark he'd just made, a small smile on his lips.

"Are you serious—" Minho started to growl, but he whimpered in protest when Jisung's fingers began to retract from his hole. Fuck, why was he such a damn tease? (And why did Minho absolutely _love_ it?) "No, please, fuck. _Please_ , another."

"That's a good boy," Jisung whispered, and the fact that the words no longer sounded like a joke made Minho's head whirl. A third finger finally slid in, stretching Minho open and making him cry loudly.

"Jisung," he moaned weakly, Jisung's fingers prodding against him teasingly, almost hitting his sensitive nerves but not quite. He arched off the bed and bit down on his lip hard when the younger spread his fingers. "Oh, _fuck_."

"You're swearing a whole lot tonight," Jisung noted, dipping back down to suck at a fresh patch of skin on Minho's thigh and making the older boy's body twitch. "Maybe you're not such a good boy, after all."

Minho pushed down the strange urge to argue _Yes, I am_ and groaned instead, grinding down on Jisung's fingers and whining louder than intended at the shift in angle.

"Fuck, please, Jisung. _Please_ ," he cried, knowing damn well he would combust on the spot if Jisung didn't stop teasing him. His thighs shook where Jisung's lips continued to leave a wet path along with pretty marks. "Please?"

"God, you're irresistible," Jisung said under his breath. "You're sure? You never answered me earlier."

"I literally just said please like five times," Minho whined, but his heart rate was picking up in excitement when Jisung's fingers finally slipped out of him before he turned to grab the condom. " _Yes_ , I'm sure. I... really want you."

Jisung smiled, and Minho swore he could see a blush dusting across the younger's face. He was too distracted to investigate, though, distracted by Jisung rolling the condom onto his length and grabbing the lube again to slick himself up.

"Are _you_ sure?" Minho asked softly, suddenly insecure despite the fact that Jisung had been praising him left and right, turning his brain to mush.

Jisung laughed quietly, scooting to kneel between Minho's thighs and rubbing at the skin he'd just littered with hickeys. He met Minho's eyes with an intense gaze. "One hundred percent sure," he murmured. "...But only if you let me attempt to take you out for coffee again tomorrow. No interruptions this time."

Minho's heart flew through the ceiling, body somehow growing even warmer at the possibility that he was going to be more than just a hook-up to his roommate. More than just a roommate in general, more than just a friend, more than just a makeshift nurse.

He had spent the entire beginning of the semester gathering the courage to befriend Jisung, and now that he finally had, it suddenly didn't feel like enough. _Fuck_ , he wanted more. He really did.

"Deal," he whispered, absolutely convinced that he was an unattractive shade of red now, but Jisung stared down at him like he was a work of art nonetheless, "if I can even walk."

Jisung giggled, bending down to kiss Minho and wrapping his arms around the older boy's waist to pull him up into his lap.

Neither of them spoke as Minho sat up on his knees and lined himself up with Jisung's cock, hands shaking, one of them gripping Jisung's shoulder tightly while the younger held onto his hips. The air around them felt too intense to be interrupted by words; the only noises in the room were their anticipatory breaths and the quiet creaking of the bed as Minho shifted around and began to sink down.

"Oh, fuck," Jisung breathed, head falling forward to rest on Minho's shoulder. " _Tight_."

Minho let out something between a laugh and a moan. " _Big_."

They were too overtaken by instant pleasure to continue joking around for the moment, nothing but quiet sounds escaping their lips.

"You okay?" Jisung lifted his head to meet Minho's eyes and used the hand that wasn't covered in lube to brush some of the elder's hair out of his face.

Minho nodded, lunging forward to kiss the younger and whining into his mouth when the sudden movement made the angle of his cock shift. He wrapped his hands around Jisung's biceps, squeezing at the muscles while he started to lift himself up and fall down again, both of them gasping softly into each other's mouths.

"You're... _fuck_ ," he whispered, chasing Jisung's lips when the younger changed the angle of his hips again.

Call Minho dramatic, but Jisung felt fucking _euphoric_ inside of him. The older boy could hardly hold back his whimpers as he gradually started a rhythm, Jisung's fingers sending waves of heat through his skin where they gripped his hips and guided his movements.

His roommate only moaned quietly in response, licking into his mouth and grinding his hips up slightly to draw a cry from Minho’s lips. Minho began to speed up, too desperate to bounce on the younger's cock until his legs gave out.

"You're so good," Jisung breathed out, their mouths disconnected but foreheads slightly pressed together as Minho grinded down on him, whimpers flooding from his lips.

"Be quiet," Minho gritted out, face falling forward and pressing into Jisung's neck so he could avoid the amused look in the younger boy's eyes. He mouthed at his skin to distract himself from busting embarrassingly early, then cried out in surprise when Jisung flopped onto his back without warning so the elder was now straddling him.

"I wanna watch you better," is all he said in explanation, grinning when Minho’s lips parted and hips stuttered. Jisung then thrusted up suddenly, nearly causing Minho to fall forward, a far too loud moan coming from his throat. "...And do this."

"You're—" Minho gritted out but hissed when Jisung arched up again, pressing into him so deep he could hardly think straight. " _Fuck_."

"Too cute," the younger giggled. Minho narrowed his eyes.

 _Fine_. If Jisung really wanted to play, he'd play back twice as hard.

He pulled himself up onto his knees so only the tip of Jisung's cock was still inside then dropped down _fast_ , hands gripping Jisung's biceps again for purchase. They both cried out at the sudden stimulation—though Minho embarrassingly louder, considering Jisung was thick and long and practically brushing right against his prostate.

"Fuck, Minho," Jisung choked out, head tossed back onto the sheets as he let Minho fuck himself on his cock, fingers digging into the older boy's skin. "You feel so good, baby."

 _Baby_.

"Baby," Minho whispered under his breath, too delirious with pleasure as he rode Jisung into the mattress to catch himself.

Jisung laughed, bucking up to meet Minho's movements and causing them both to moan. "You like being called baby?"

"No," Minho blurted, but his voice was weak and his eyes were glassy with arousal as he watched Jisung below him, lower lip between his teeth and expression teasing.

He was so fucking hot, Minho would let him call him anything he wanted.

"Are you sure about that, baby?" the younger pressed, grabbing Minho's hips tightly to hold him in place as he thrusted up into the elder. "You don't want to hear me call you a pretty baby?"

" _Jisung_ ," Minho nearly sobbed, head tipping back as Jisung thrusted into him deep and steady. "Jisung, _fuck_."

He was consumed by bliss, the world around him and around Jisung blocked out completely.

Until there was a banging on the other side of the wall and a _Shut the fuck up!_

They both tensed in alarm, then giggled at the sudden interruption. Jisung began to sit up, reaching his arms out toward Minho.

"Help me up."

Minho huffed, momentarily forgetting about the cock stuffing his ass as he gripped Jisung's arms to pull him back into a sitting position. "Weak ass."

Jisung's eyes glinted _terrifyingly_ the moment the words left his mouth. Suddenly, Minho was flat on his back with the younger boy looming over him, hips snapping flush against his ass so his cock was buried even deeper.

"Oh, fuck, _God_ ," Minho cried, legs wrapping tightly around Jisung's torso and body shaking when the younger boy shifted to his knees slightly for better leverage and pinned Minho's wrists down on either side of his head.

"Look at you," he whispered between heavy pants, thrusting into Minho fast, eyes wide as he gazed down at the elder. "Such a pretty baby."

" _Jisung_ ," Minho nearly sobbed. "Feels so good, fuck. _Fuck_."

The banging started again, and Jisung choked out another laugh, dipping down to connect their mouths sloppily.

"Need to stay quiet, baby," he mumbled against Minho's lips.

Minho was too gone to comply, high whines escaping his throat steadily—though Jisung was able to muffle them now, licking into his mouth and absorbing his noises.

"Jisung," Minho whimpered, quieter now, but he was still out-of-control with his movements, back arching off the bed, body squirming, thighs shaking where they tightened around Jisung's waist.

"Good boy," Jisung cooed, pressing wet kisses down Minho's throat and sucking a mark between his neck and his shoulder, then hushing him when he cried into his ear.

"Fuck, _please—_ " Minho sobbed, eyes practically rolling back as Jisung grinded into him deep, hitting his prostate straight-on.

"So good," Jisung whispered, kissing along Minho's jaw now. "You gonna come all over yourself?"

Minho choked on a whine, flames erupting at his core. He wasn't sure how Jisung knew how to take him apart so easily—how he'd figured it out so _quickly_ —but he could hardly find it in him to retort in embarrassment, too close to tipping over the edge.

"Yes, please," he cried, back arching further in an attempt to pull Jisung in deeper.

" _Fuck_ ," Jisung hissed. "You don't have to ask, baby. You’re so good." He sucked gently at Minho’s neck to muffle his own noises. "Go on, pretty baby, come whenever you need to."

" _Ah_ ," Minho cried out, high and loud, wrists breaking free from Jisung's grip to tangle in his hair and roughly pull him in for a kiss. His hips bucked up uncontrollably, chasing the intense sensation of Jisung nailing his prostate. "Jisung, fuck—"

He sobbed out the younger’s name one last time, the cry muffled by their kisses, body seizing up as he came hard between their bodies.

"Oh, shit," Jisung moaned into his neck, propped on his elbows, thrusts slowing.

"Keep going," Minho whined, voice raspy and weak, thighs tugging Jisung forward to stay buried inside him. "Jisung, _please_."

"Fucking Christ," the younger boy breathed. "You're so perfect, fuck." He continued his thrusts, letting out soft grunts against Minho's skin as the older boy tugged at his hair and whined from the sensitivity.

"Please, Jisung," he cried again, so completely gone he could hardly think straight, only registering the feeling of Jisung deep inside him and the intense waves of post-orgasm pleasure drowning his senses.

"God, Minho," Jisung groaned, hips stuttering before he came into the condom with a shudder, knees giving out so he was pressed flush against Minho with the mess of cum smeared between them. "Holy shit."

"Holy shit..." Minho echoed, slowly emerging from his clouded state of mind and flushing from head to toe as Jisung met his eyes and cautiously pulled out.

 _Holy shit_ was right.

He had seriously, genuinely just fucked his roommate.

He had fucked _Jisung_.

For a few seconds, they remained silent, staring back and forth while Jisung blindly tugged off the condom before moving off the bed to throw it out. He nearly tripped on the way, making Minho giggle quietly.

"Hey, shut up," Jisung mumbled, finally breaking the silence. "I'd like to see _you_ try and walk right now."

"Is that a challenge?" Minho huffed. He pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, vision instantly going blurry. Fuck, he hadn't come that hard in _ages_.

"God, I was _kidding_ ," Jisung laughed, rushing over to steady Minho, who swayed dangerously when he stood to his feet. "Aw, look at you. Can't even take a step, can you?"

"That's—That's no way to treat your nurse," Minho grumbled, face burning hotter. He wrapped his arms around Jisung for support and dragged the younger with him to the end of the bed where the forgotten first aid kit was to pull out one of the wipes and begin to clean up the mess on his torso.

"Never thought you'd be using your cute little first aid kit for _this_ ," Jisung muttered, though his voice was fond as he ran a hand through Minho's hair. "C'mon, let's cuddle."

Minho felt his heart skip a beat at the proposition. He hadn't necessarily expected Jisung to ditch him once they'd both finished—and it wasn't like there was anywhere else to go, anyway, the two of them being roommates and all—but the thought of being held in the younger boy's arms had him lighting up inside.

He squeaked in surprise when Jisung lifted him up and gently plopped him down on the bed. They momentarily ignored the mess of lube and cum on the sheets and wrapped around each other tightly.

This was possibly the strangest experience Minho had had all semester—all of _college_ , actually.

Fuck, he was so happy.

He let out a soft hum as he nuzzled into Jisung, fingers softly tracing the marks on the younger boy's chest, both from his fights and from Minho's eager mouth.

"Do you feel okay?" Jisung asked softly, kissing the top of Minho's head. "Do I need to be _your_ nurse, now?"

"Maybe," Minho teased. "No, I feel amazing. You?"

"Even better," Jisung told him with a smile, hugging him warmly. "Except my eye fucking kills. I swear this motherfucker nearly blinded me earlier. Dramatic asshole."

" _What?_ " Minho cried, sitting up suddenly to observe the bruised skin again. _Fuck_ , Minho was so caught up in his attraction, he'd hardly done anything to tend to Jisung's wounds earlier. He slapped his roommate's chest. "Why the hell didn't you say anything? Let me go get ice—"

"Nuh uh," Jisung protested instantly, tugging Minho back down to his chest and tangling their limbs.

"I'm supposed to be your _nurse_ ," Minho whined, though he gave up on escaping Jisung's grasp and melted against his chest with a defeated sigh.

"I think your nurse duties have been fulfilled, babe," Jisung said with a quiet laugh, squeezing Minho tightly. "I'm not letting you go, now."

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!! feel free to let me know if you liked it or not. also please check out the other fics in the collection hehe
> 
> special thanks to my beta, [bullet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletbulletbullet/pseuds/bulletbulletbullet) ♡


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